Nightchaser

by Amanda Bouchet

  “Nothing terrible has ever happened here,” I admitted. “But the orphanage is prepared for an invasion, an attack, whatever. Bullets don’t ricochet; it would take very heavy weapons to blow a hole in the wall; the entire place is a grid of fifty-meter zones with airtight safety doors that close automatically in case of depressurization. Stuff like that.”

  We both lay back down rather than sit hunched over while we finished catching our breath. I reached out and touched the furry curve of Bonk’s back through the side mesh of Shade’s tightly strapped-on pack. Bonk didn’t stir, but I felt his little body move as he steadily drew in air.

  “Like my uncle said, you’d have to nuke it to destroy it.”

  Shade gazed at me. “Impressive. Sounds expensive.”

  I shrugged. “Having a near monopoly on honey helps.” Currency didn’t buy medicine, though. It was where you lived and who you knew that counted for that.

  “I hope kids don’t crawl around in these tunnels,” he said.

  I’d probably spent a collective two months of my life in these tunnels—at least. “We do evac drills to the pod docks using the ventilation shafts.”

  Shade looked incredulous. “You can’t just take the stairs?”

  “What if there’s a fire? Or a depressurized zone cutting off a level? Or someone’s pumped noxious gas into the residential areas? You never know.” We were ready, because we took risks here. Not physical, but intellectual. Emotional. The thousands of children who grew up here were the seeds to every plant the Overseer didn’t want blossoming in his galaxy. So far, we’d stayed beneath his notice, germinating far and wide but without him grasping the connection. Partly, it seemed, thanks to Nathaniel Bridgebane.

  “That’s why it’s always lighted through the ventilation system, even though it’s a power drain,” I added.

  “Those vertical shafts are dangerous,” he insisted.

  “Everyone knows not to take a tunnel if it smells like rose. Even a two-year-old would have avoided it.”

  Shade hmphed. “I’ve never smelled a rose.”

  “Well, sniff, learn it, and steer clear,” I said.

  Shade inhaled through his nose. “Subtle. I’d hardly noticed it before. Smells good.”

  I nodded. It did. “There’s a scent diffuser on the giant turbine ready to cut you to shreds.”

  Cautiously, Shade lightly brushed a hand down my arm. “Thanks, starshine.”

  I nodded, warmth licking through my belly.

  “What are you wearing?” he asked, his brow creasing as he plucked at my shirt.

  “Surral’s scrubs. She had to cut off my spacewalk undersuit to get at the bullet wound.”

  Shade’s hand stopped moving on my arm. He stared at me. “You’re scaring the shit out of me right now. When did you get shot?”

  “On the Squirrel Tree. Big man? Gun? Remember?”

  “I remember,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know you got hit.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “So you decided to go on a spacewalk?”

  “Well, someone had to get all those bugs off my ship before we left Sector 2.” I didn’t bother to curb the bite in my voice.

  Shade had the decency to look guilty. “How many were there?” he asked.

  “I found three.”

  “Only one was mine.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I dumped them,” I said.

  “Did they track you?”

  I nodded.

  “But you got away?”

  “Clearly.” I was here, wasn’t I?

  “Do I want to hear about this?” he asked, sounding wary.

  “Probably not.” But it warmed me that he cared.

  “I’ll ask later.” Shade’s hand swept up my arm again and over my pink shoulder, the tips of his fingers teasing my neck. “Right now, I’m just glad you’re okay. And you look good enough to eat.”

  I grimaced. “I look like candy.”

  He smiled. “Like I said, good enough to eat.”

  Before I even knew I was doing it, I smiled back. The heat in his honey-brown eyes made my belly flip.

  I shivered when his fingertips skated over my collarbone. “How’s your leg?” I asked.

  “Hurts like a bitch,” he answered. “And you pulling on it didn’t help.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Should I have dropped you?”

  “Maybe,” he said a little wryly. “I’m not sure I’d have blamed you.”

  The warmth I’d been feeling turned into something hot and unpleasant. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  Shade took a moment to answer. “Because my head really wanted two hundred million in universal currency, even if the rest of me didn’t agree.”

  Something twisted in my chest. Painfully. “When did you decide?” Or even…had he?

  He leaned forward and very slowly, very carefully, gently kissed my lips. “I would never have slept with you and then turned you in.”

  I didn’t kiss him back. I couldn’t yet. “I’m not ready to forgive you.”

  “I know.” His eyes were steady on mine, his expression open. “Just give me a chance to earn back your trust. Please.”

  Bringing Bonk to me was certainly a start.

  “You were protecting me on the dock, weren’t you? On the Squirrel Tree? You were keeping that bounty hunter from shooting me.” I hadn’t been able to see it then, hadn’t wanted to. The scene looked different to me now.

  His open expression hardened into something angry and dark. “He got you, though. I’m sorry I didn’t do better.”

  “He didn’t get me until I ran.”

  “He shouldn’t have gotten you at all.”

  “And I shouldn’t have left you there.” Not when I’d seen Shade reeling from the tranquilizer that woman had fired off.

  He shrugged. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Not sure I agreed with that, I turned and led the way toward the shipping docks. “We’ve rested long enough. Come on,” I said over my shoulder. “Before you bleed to death.”

  “It’s not as bad as all that.” Shade still groaned when he got up onto all fours and started moving. He’d already been going more slowly before falling over the Rose Drop, and his lips had seemed cool when they’d touched mine a moment ago. I hoped the pause had done him good, but we needed to keep moving.

  “You want me to take Bonk?” I asked, glancing back at him.

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  Right. That was why he’d just flinched.

  Instead of continuing all the way down to the docks in the ventilation shafts, I got us out at the next possible exit and helped Shade limp toward the cargo lifts. We had no reason to hide anymore. Bridgebane was gone—assuming he was sticking to our deal, which I believed he would. He was an asshole, but he was an asshole who kept his word.

  “Hard to believe, but crawling was easier,” Shade muttered under his breath.

  “Almost there.” I gave his abdomen a reassuring pat, keeping my other arm around his waist. “If you want, you can still crawl.”

  He gave me a look that spoke volumes—volumes of no thanks.

  Even though there was a railing inside the elevator, Shade kept me against his side and his arm across my shoulders in the lift. We exited at the cargo docks.

  Across the platform, the Endeavor waited with her door open for us. The Dark beckoned beyond, a transparent plasma shield keeping the area pressurized.

  “Is Jax going to beat me up?” Shade asked.

  My lips twitched. “Possibly.”

  “Something to look forward to,” Shade said.

  “Stick around and maybe I’ll lick your wounds.”

  Shade groaned a little, part pain, and part something else. I hadn’t said that with any ulterior meaning,
but I realized the train of his thoughts when he looked at me with molten eyes. I blushed, my insides going all fluttery and hot.

  The Endeavor’s stairs were down since Miko and Shiori had been out dealing with the numbers. We climbed them, Shade’s steps dragging as we headed up and inside.

  “Jax?” I called out, surprised he wasn’t waiting for me at the door. Everything seemed strangely quiet, even though the ship was powered up and ready to go. “Fiona?”

  Some sixth sense made my heart start to pound. Dread was an actual taste in my mouth, and I swallowed it down, letting go of Shade as I sprinted toward the bridge.

  “Miko! Shiori!” I screamed.

  No one answered. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. Something was terribly wrong.

  Chapter 29

  “Tess! Run!” Jax’s bellow reached me as I barreled down the corridor.

  I gripped the edge of the open door and swung myself at full throttle onto the bridge. Oh fuck!

  “Dad?” I froze solid. The Galactic Overseer was on my ship. He had one heavy arm around Miko’s chest and a Grayhawk to her head.

  Fear erupted inside me. I’d watched my father on screens, but nothing had prepared me for seeing him again in person. Or for seeing that sneer I remembered. He seemed to reserve it especially for me. Others would call his face impassive.

  Quickly, I took in the rest of him. Brown uniform, brown hair, brown eyes. Medium-tall. Nothing about him stood out until he opened his mouth and managed to convey such dogmatic fervency that people stopped and listened. They followed.

  “According to my tracker, Nathaniel just left. Yet here you are. I’m discovering that he’s disturbingly inefficient when it comes to you.”

  Holy Sky Mother. I shook and shook and shook.

  Shade came up at my back. He felt warm again—maybe because I’d turned to ice.

  “I don’t have what you want,” I lied. There was a chance he hadn’t seen the lab if he hadn’t walked around the ship, or that he didn’t even know what it looked like. From the outside, it was just a hulking cargo space, and the Endeavor was a cargo cruiser. It fit.

  “Then you’ll provide it again. It’s as simple as that.”

  I darted panicked looks around the bridge. Jax and Fiona were on my left, a few feet from each other. My father and Miko stood right in front of me, near my console. Shiori stayed close to Miko, silent and petrified. Miko was her life and breath.

  I didn’t think anyone was armed. Only Shade and I were.

  And Dad.

  His finger was steady on the trigger, and I knew the cold-hearted bastard would pull it unless I gave him what he wanted. Actually, I was terrified he’d pull it anyway.

  Miko’s small nose flared on sharp breaths.

  I held up my hands. “Let her go, and I’ll come.”

  Fiona shouted first. “No, Tess!”

  The Overseer whipped his gun toward her and shot.

  I screamed. Jax howled in anguish. Fiona flew back against the wall with a crash.

  Dad pointed his gun at Miko again. The whole thing took three seconds, if that. I ran toward Fiona.

  “Don’t move!” the Overseer barked, squeezing Miko until she yipped.

  I screeched to a stop, lifting both hands back up. Jax crouched next to Fiona, his face washed of all color and his big hands pressing hard against her shoulder. Blood flowed through his fingers, and Fiona panted, her chest heaving. She clamped her eyes shut but then opened them again, as if she couldn’t bear not to see. She was looking at Jax. He looked back before turning his horrified gaze to me.

  I faced my father. He was an expert marksman, a military man from the start, but he hadn’t taken the time to aim. If he had, Fiona would be dead, a bullet right between the eyes. I’d seen him do it before, to people who worked for him, to people I’d known. I’d seen him just pull out a gun and shoot. Not even out of rage, or in distress, or in defense. Simply, I’m done with you—boom.

  “I’ll back out of the ship,” I said, my voice echoing inside me as if coming from far away.

  I glanced at Miko. I could hardly hear her terrorized breathing over my own pounding blood. Miko. My Miko had already been through too much.

  “Just follow me out,” I said, “and leave everyone else alone.”

  I bumped into Shade as I stepped back. His arm brushed my shoulder as he leveled his gun on my father.

  “Drop it,” Shade said.

  The Overseer jerked Miko more firmly in front of him. Miko cried out, and Shiori bleated an awful, animal sound.

  “No! Grandmother, get back!” Miko’s pleas went unheeded as Shiori moved, not needing sight to know she was in front of Miko, whose frightened breaths sawed in and out.

  Slowly, I turned my head enough to address Shade, my father still in my peripheral vision. “There are some things I won’t ever forgive.”

  The line of Shade’s jaw hardened. “You’re my priority.”

  “I will be nothing to you, ever, if he kills someone here because of you.”

  Shade must have believed me, because after a moment, he lowered his gun to the floor.

  “Kick it to the side,” the Overseer ordered, nodding toward the empty, right-hand side of the bridge.

  Shade kicked the gun, and it slid away, landing in the shadows under Jax’s console.

  “Why do you need me?” I asked my father, backing up another step to try to coax him off the bridge. I knew what my uncle had said, but I didn’t believe I was the origin of type A1 blood. Maybe the Overseer had convinced Bridgebane that he didn’t carry it, but I thought he did.

  “Why can’t you just take what you want from yourself? We both know I didn’t get it from Mom. It has to be you. You’ve got it, too. You’ve got your own supply of freakish blood.”

  He laughed a little, the sound dreadful and dark. “You’re not mine.”

  I stared, not understanding. “Not yours?”

  “Did you think that when anomalies were found, I wouldn’t test? You’re not mine, and Caitrin was a lying bitch.”

  I went cold, then nuclear hot. Relief couldn’t happen, considering the situation, but his angry words blew through me like a bomb that leveled all things past.

  I looked him right in the eyes, over Miko’s head, with her thick black hair catching on the stiff collar of his uniform as she shuddered in fright. “I am so fucking thankful that I’m not yours. That’s the best news I’ve had in my entire life.”

  The Overseer’s expression hardened—a true feat for a man who already had such a stony face.

  “No wonder you always hated me,” I said, “and treated Mom like crap.”

  “If I’d known Nathaniel wasn’t going to kill you, I’d have done it myself.”

  “And lose your supplier?” I asked.

  “I had enough. You saw what I’d accomplished—when you stole it.”

  “Who’s my father?” I asked.

  “I have no idea. Your mother wouldn’t tell me, even when I infected her with a fatal disease and held the cure over her head.”

  All my systems shut down in shock. I couldn’t breathe. My vision wavered. My heart stopped beating in my chest. When everything started again, it was with a sickening rush.

  “You’re a bigger bastard than I ever thought,” Shade said. “And my opinion was damn low to begin with.”

  “I don’t know who you are,” the Overseer shot back, “but I never forget a face.”

  “Remember mine, then. Because I’m coming for you,” Shade said.

  The Overseer brushed that off. He had death threats every day, sometimes more than once. Thinking he was omnipotent helped.

  “Attractive, this one,” he said, inhaling against the top of Miko’s head. “Seems docile enough. I could probably grow you a new hand, my dear, and maybe it’s time I shopped for another rebel wife.”<
br />
  Shopping was exactly what he’d done with Mom. Seen. Wanted. Bought—her price being the end of the annihilation of the Outer Zones. He must have loved her in his way, since he’d been willing to bargain. I didn’t think she’d ever loved him, but maybe she’d acted out her role convincingly for the good of millions, and especially her home Sector. In any case, she’d kept her word and gone with him, and he’d kept his. He’d finally offered terms to Sectors 17 and 18 instead of sending more explosives. Almost like a bridal gift, their wedding day had been the end of the war.

  It would almost have been a romantic tale, if he hadn’t been such a narrow-minded tyrant.

  I knew the Overseer didn’t want a new wife or care what Miko looked like. He wanted to control me and knew that taking Miko meant leverage.

  “You don’t want her.” I took another step back, moving Shade with me and trying to keep the Overseer from even looking at Fiona and Jax again. “Take me instead.”

  “Yes, you’re coming, too, Quintessa.” He started pushing Miko forward, plowing Shiori along in front. “I’m sure I’ll find uses for you both.”

  Miko’s eyes flared with panic. She’d already been used for sex, and that was what he was implying. But he thought she was docile, which she wasn’t—not when trapped.

  My heart lurched as I read the transition on her face. Fear eclipsed by wrath. Caution replaced by No!

  She started fighting. It was wild and powerful and lasted about four seconds before he shot her in the head.

  I gasped. Shiori screamed. Miko dropped. Dead.

  “Miko!” I lunged forward, but Shade jerked me back. My back slammed into his chest, and he held me there, his grip too tight for me to break.

  My heart pounded in broken beats as I struggled a hand between our bodies and drew my gun. I pointed the quaking barrel at the man who had taken so much from so many. So much from me.

  He grabbed Shiori as his new shield, and I couldn’t shoot.

  “Drop it,” he said.

  “No.” I cocked my weapon, and the action steadied my hand.

  “Then all three of us walk,” the Overseer announced.

  He moved to the right, and Shade and I moved left, leaving him room to exit. He backed off the bridge, dragging a comatose-looking Shiori with him. She wasn’t crying. She didn’t say anything. She looked dead. Upright, but dead, and my heart shattered even more at the sight.